Harley Street
Page 12
“Good.” As Nichols held up the pink gown I had chosen to wear over the cream petticoat, he returned to the previous subject. “What would I do? I would start a book in one of the coffee houses on the date she loses her virginity. With money at stake, they’d be queuing up.”
“Richard!”
His slow smile showed his delight at my naiveté. “You think it would be the only entry on that particular topic? Je suis désolée to disappoint you, my sweet innocent. I could also cut her in public and let it be known she bores me. My opinion counts for something, you know.” He bit his lower lip. “If I promise not to do the last two, may I do the first?” Although he must have known my answer, he looked hopeful.
“Certainly not.”
“She’d love the extra attention and there’s no harm in it. Nobody would force her.”
“No, Richard.” I glared at him directly while Nichols adjusted the pleats at the back of my gown.
His smile had a wicked glint and I knew he was teasing me.
“You have no intention of starting a betting book, have you?”
His smile broadened. “There’s one already but I swear to you that I had nothing to do with starting it.”
“Have you entered anything in it? Truthfully?”
He didn’t look in the least shame-faced when he confessed, “Yes, I have but only on the date. I’m in it, you know.”
I was astonished. “They think you’ll seduce her?”
“Well, I have been seen in her company rather a lot recently, even if it isn’t by choice. And I might have done it before I met you, although virgins weren’t my—sphere of interest.”
“So we heard.” I smiled at him. “It was the only reason Lizzie and Martha trusted you at all.”
“Perhaps they shouldn’t have done.” The smile remained, but subtly changed, a remembrance of what had happened between us. Nichols pursed her lips in disapproval, though she said nothing. Despite her past life as maid in some of the best brothels in London, Nichols had a puritanical streak about her. Perhaps she had seen too much.
She opened the box containing the jewellery I had decided to wear, pearls and diamonds tonight, a simple string with pendant earrings to match. I always loved fine jewels, although before my marriage I’d thought them beyond me but now, as well as the family jewels that had come my way, I had several fine pieces of my own. I touched the necklace as Nichols clasped it around my neck and I saw Richard’s smile when he saw my pleasure. I was ready, so Nichols helped me into a warm cloak before we left the house.
Ranelagh had opened ten years before and was currently the most fashionable pleasure garden in London. In the middle of vistas and promenades, set out with bowers and flowers stood a large rotunda, where, in the season, regular recitals took place.
We travelled to Ranelagh down river. The usual November freezing chill had not yet set in but I was wearing furs for extra warmth, and yet despite the weather I was reminded of the trips we had taken up and down the Grand Canal earlier in the year. But this was the Thames, wider, colder, greyer and we travelled in a rowed barge, not a poled gondola. The most important things were the same, though.
We’d engaged one of the booths for supper, together with Gervase, Lizzie, Ruth, Tom, Georgiana and Freddy Thwaite but we travelled down alone, arranging to meet them there.
The great Rotunda impressed me with its magnificence, built entirely for pleasure. Gervase and Freddy found us and entertained me hugely, pointing out the ladies of the town who were inevitably present in this public place. The proprietors tried to keep them out but it was difficult, as they were respectably, in some cases magnificently, dressed and didn’t make their ambitions embarrassingly obvious.
Since the recital had not yet begun, Richard escorted me around the Rotunda, joining the other members of the great and good showing themselves off here, showing me the more scandalous ladies and reciting some scurrilous stories about them. He wouldn’t tell me which of them had shared his attentions in the past, though one or two stared at him askance when we passed. His stories became increasingly scandalous, until he told me something I couldn’t believe and I called a halt to it. “You’re trying to put me to the blush,” I accused him. “No one can do that.”
“She can. It’s even been written about.”
“Shall I try?”
“No.” Although I didn’t look at him, I knew from his tone of voice that he was amused. “I confess I’ve never seen it, although I’ve read about it and heard it from people who have seen it.”
“Then I don’t believe it. And you can take me back now.” I heard his delighted laugh but I refused to look at him.
On our way back we saw the Drurys, sitting with Eustacia Terry and another gentleman. I didn’t like to see it, even though it was perfectly within the bounds of propriety with Julia to chaperone Eustacia. We bowed to each other. “Look,” I murmured to Richard, “you see that girl standing behind her? That’s the new maid I told you about.” The one sharing the room with Lucy at my aunt’s house. She must know something. We had to talk to her but the Drurys kept her close.
Standing behind the group as though in waiting upon them was the girl I’d seen with Julia Drury at the Exchange. She was a slight creature and although dressed plainly, pretty, but her serious expression didn’t help her looks. Richard glanced at her, then we turned back and went to our box.
I settled down to enjoy the recital. Although this was a pleasure garden, I couldn’t fault the quality of the music and as usual in the presence of fine music, I lost myself. The others chatted quietly but I didn’t notice much, although I tried to keep up with what was being said. Richard laid his hand on mine and if my response were required, he would gently press it. He understood my love of music, he felt it himself and I was grateful to him for his thoughtfulness.
After the recital there was a short interval before supper. Richard leaned forward, as though to talk to Freddy and glanced across at the Drurys’ box. “They’re leaving the box,” he said in a conversational tone. “Shall we take a turn about the gardens, too?”
“That would be pleasant.”
Lizzie took Freddy’s arm while Tom escorted Ruth. Georgiana and Gervase followed behind. Richard led us in the direction he’d seen the Drurys take and soon we came upon them, as though by accident.
Richard immediately left my side and went to Julia. I watched him bow over her hand. She glanced at me, triumph in her gaze but Steven approached me. He met my eyes when he straightened up. I remembered a time—brief but intense—when he’d been able to keep me transfixed with that soft brown gaze. “I’m pleased to see you looking so well.”
“Thank you, sir. You seem to be prospering.”
“You could say that.” He glanced to where Richard was discussing something with Julia. “They make a fine couple, don’t they?”
I smiled. “No. They’re too unlike.”
He stared at them, surprised. “I thought they were exactly alike. Both so cold, always looking for new sensations.”
“My husband hasn’t caused many scandals recently.”
“He’s still living down the ones he created before. There’s gossip in the coffee houses about Eustacia Terry and him but it’s low-key compared with what I understand went on before.”
“People change.”
“No they don’t,” he snapped. He drew me aside from the others. Lizzie watched suspiciously while she chatted to Gervase. Steven lowered his voice and spoke in a warm, intimate tone. I braced myself for his confidences. “Rose, I still have feelings for you and I’m sure Julia has for your husband. That new maid of hers is also enamoured of him.”
“What makes you think your wife has feelings for anyone?” I couldn’t help my waspishness. I disliked them so much and I wasn’t as good as Richard at hiding my feelings. “He’s doing this to stop the gossips.”
Steven gazed at me, self-pity in his dark eyes. I knew that expression well. “We meant so much to each other once. Don’t you feel
anything for me any more?”
“I was angry with you in Venice but no—not now.” It wasn’t entirely true. “My feelings for you were entirely mistaken.”
“And for your husband?” He smiled, his mouth quirking up at one side. It made him look like a fascinating satyr.
“We get on.” Why should I tell him how much I loved Richard, how much he depended on me? “What about your wife?”
He sighed and cast a glance in Julia’s direction. “She’s beautiful, desirable, rich—everything a man could want.” He didn’t say he loved her or even that he was fond of her.
“But you ran away with her.”
“I took advantage of her confusion.” He met my gaze. “You were Lord Strang’s mistress by then, weren’t you? Don’t forget, I saw you. You certainly took advantage of the situation in that benighted house.” He smiled in a way I found most unpleasant.
“I was mad to do it,” I snapped.
His voice took on a sneering tone. The flickering lights of the walkway emphasised his cynical expression, the shadows about his dark eyes and the corners of his mouth. “So you’ve not found him the life companion you hoped for? Surely you have your compensations.” With a little gesture of one hand, he indicated my appearance. I stayed silent. “In fact, we both have. We’re two of a kind, you and I. We saw what we wanted and we went for it. There are few compensations for people such as you and I and we have to make the most of our luck.” He lowered his voice again. “Rose, if ever you should need a shoulder to cry on, a friend, I hope you know you can always come to me.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Steven Drury would be the last person I would trust with anything but I smiled and inclined my head as though in thanks. “I’m perfectly content,” I said as Richard came back to us.
My husband offered his arm. “I’m delighted to hear it. Shall we?” We bowed and moved on. I was grateful for Richard’s support now; that foolish faintness was coming over me again. I found it more of an inconvenience than anything else but I was afraid I might one day soon faint at an inappropriate moment, then all would be known.
Richard murmured to me. “Are you well? Did he upset you in any way?”
“Yes, I’m much better now we’re moving again. No, he didn’t upset me, it was more like surprise. He offered his friendship. Maybe more.”
“What?” I was glad to hear the startled tone in his voice, as it wasn’t often I could surprise him like that.
“He has no idea how it is between us. I made sure of it.”
“But he’s seen more than most,” Richard commented.
“He put that down to simple lust. He seems to think I’m as restless as he is.”
Richard gazed at me, a faraway look in his eyes, indicating he was thinking hard. “And she thinks he’s at her feet. Interesting. Anything we can use, my love, we will, if we have to protect our own.”
We reached our box again and it was time for supper, so we could say no more.
RICHARD TOLD ME WHAT Julia had said to him when we lay in bed later. It was the only place where we knew we could converse totally in private these days, so I was doubly glad we had kept to our rules about allowing access here.
“He ran away with Julia because he could,” I told him. “She was terribly upset when you threw her over. I don’t think she believed you would ever go through with it and he took her then, in her pride.”
Richard grimaced. “She wasn’t upset. She was angry. When I told her I wanted to break our contract, she seemed to think I was as afraid of my father in one of his tempers as everybody else is. I’d long decided they had done enough to me. I wouldn’t take any more interference and when I met you—” He turned his head, looking at me as I lay in the shelter of his arms and he smiled tenderly before he went on. “When I met you, I was so sure of my feelings I would have done anything to win you.”
“You didn’t have to do much,” I reminded him.
He pushed a stray curl from my face and kissed me, making it tender and lingering. I returned it, caressing his tongue with mine before he drew back. “I would have created all the scandal required, if I’d needed to. I only wanted to spare you all that.” His hand moved over my stomach.
“You said Julia thought she had Steven at her feet. What else did she say? About the girl?”
He sighed. “Before I tell you that, there’s something else I need to tell you. When I saw the girl, I recognised her.”
This brought me up short. I leaned up on one elbow so I could look at his face. “You didn’t mention that.”
“I wanted to be sure. Do you remember a girl in here when we were in bed?”
“The little maid? Was that her?” He nodded. I closed my eyes, picturing the face. Yes, he was right. “How did she get in here?”
“That, my sweet, is another mystery. I haven’t the faintest idea. I’ll ask my mother tomorrow but she doesn’t supervise the hiring of all the servants. She considers that Mrs. Patterson’s job.”
“Shall I talk to her?”
“No. Mrs. Patterson and I are old friends, I’ll ask her myself.” He tucked one hand behind his head. “Julia thinks the whole of the world is at her feet. She thinks I am, though how she can believe that after what happened between us, I’m not sure. But that pride, that overweening vanity, could help us. It gives her an arrogance that might make her careless in time. I’m sure she’s up to something, I just don’t know what it is. She feigned complete surprise when I told her I was involved with investigating Lucy’s murder, although she must have known I would be interested, even if Lucy had been just another maid.”
I lifted my hand to his cheek in sympathy. He kissed the palm before I took it away again. When he moved his head, his eyes glinted from the light of the branch of candles still burning next to the bed. “She says the girl had been earning extra money at her house, sewing and so she came to her in fear when Lucy died. Julia says the girl didn’t see anything that would help us—she was merely terrified out of her wits when she saw the scene and ran from there in panic. Furthermore, Julia said that if she had known I was interested in the matter, she would have sent the girl straight to me.”
“Lies.” The barefaced impudence of it all appalled me. “Julia knows we’re interested. Do you think she knows what Lucy was to you?”
He sighed. “I don’t know. We have servants in place in the house now, and I hope they can discover something for us.”
“Do you think she wants you back? Do you think she’s enticing you with the girl?”
“Yes,” he replied. “But there’s more to it than that, I’m sure of it. The girl is called Susan. Susan Jackson.”
“I’ll send word to Mrs. Thompson,” I promised him.
He took his hand from behind his head and ran his hand from my armpit to my hip and across my stomach. “You feel no different.”
I shivered at his touch. “It will.”
“This, on the other hand,” he said, reaching his hand up to cup my breast, “Feels fuller, I’m sure of it.”
“I thought so too. Nichols says it’s often so. A woman will feel her pregnancy in her breasts before her belly shows any signs of change.”
Richard pulled me down and kissed me. I sighed and closed my eyes in pleasure. Taking this as encouragement, he urged me on to my back and continued down, kissing and caressing, his mouth and hands concentrating on my pleasure. I could do nothing but sigh and murmur his name, as he took the secret pearl of flesh between his thumb and forefinger, kissing all around and finally taking it into his mouth. His expertise was only improving as we grew more accustomed to each others’ bodies. Like a sculptor, his art became more refined and practiced. I gripped his broad shoulders, my fingernails digging in before I released him, worried that I might mark him. He growled and lifted his head. “Do what you like, my lady. You can do nothing wrong. Don’t let consideration of what’s right or wrong into this bed. There is only us here, only our pleasure.” He returned to his self-appointed task until
I was racked with that ecstasy he had first brought me earlier in the year and which now seemed so necessary to my comfort.
“So that hasn’t changed either,” he murmured as he came back up the bed to kiss my lips and join his body with mine.
“I’ll never change.” I was beyond rational thought now. “Never, never, never.”
He chuckled against my lips before he kissed me again, then found that place on my throat I loved him to kiss. “You’ll change, my lady,” he said, his lips against my neck, “but never be any the less desirable.” With one hard thrust he entered me and I pushed against him, rolling with him until I lay on top. I planted my knees either side of his thighs, watching him as I worked him, feeling him deep inside me, touching that sensitive part with every stroke. I loved this.
“Close your eyes, sweetheart. Concentrate on your pleasure.” His low murmurs served to add to my excitement. I did as he bid me and let myself feel the sensation of his body in mine, so hard where mine was soft and giving, but he encouraged my control of this act. When I concentrated, I could feel the differences. Where the bulbous head of his shaft caressed me deep inside, I felt a spot of extra sensitivity and there seemed to be another, lower down, or maybe they were one. I worked to get him to slide past them with every touch and he felt me, holding himself rigid for my explorations but by the gasps he gave I knew I was driving him wild as well as myself.
We came together, his seed and my wetness bathing us in our pleasure, and I let him take me then, giving me the extra strokes that sent me up to a higher peak before oblivion took me.
Chapter Twelve
OUR DAYS BECAME A WHIRL of levees, visits, shopping and, in Richard’s case, visits to the coffee houses and clubs. We went to balls, ridottos, routs and Venetian breakfasts and everywhere I was treated with the greatest kindness and respect. We came across the Hareton party frequently and the Drurys a little less frequently but we received no news from Thompson’s, except that reports were still coming in. The manservant could have escaped the country or taken the King’s shilling. We continued to treat the Drurys with politeness, acknowledging the faux truce. We needed the information the servant they had in their employ might be able to give us and until we got her, we wouldn’t disturb the status quo. Neither Richard nor I believed she knew nothing. Julia wouldn’t keep her so close for kindness’ sake.